


Temptations of Trouble on my Tongue

by TheRageCute



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRageCute/pseuds/TheRageCute
Summary: "Michael can tell already exactly what this place is going to be like without having to really step foot in it, the kind of town where everyone always knows everything about everyone else. Full of gossips and bible thumpers and there’s probably only one supermarket and no pubs and basically no fun. It’s everything Michael Clifford hates wrapped up in a cutesy little suspiciously friendly town. "_______________________________________________Drifter Michael meets church boy Luke.
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Temptations of Trouble on my Tongue

The air is heavy and thick, humid in a way that usually spells an oncoming storm, Michael breathes it in through the open windows of his beat up old car, and wonders, not for the first time today where the fuck they are.

The radio crackles, disjointed words of some advertisement obnoxious enough that they threaten to pull Calum out of his well deserved sleep if he doesn’t turn it down, so he does, submitting to silence. 

And so Michael, young, free and a little too cocky, and not  _ quite _ living out of his car with his best friend - _ Road tripping _ , that’s what they tell anyone that bothers to ask. It's an old tired joke that they don’t even really laugh at anymore because they know what they’re actually doing is running. - continues down the gravelly road to god knows where.

He’s definitely not planning to stop in the tiny little town, as he passes through what he’d deem the bible belt, but his car is basically just scrap metal and will-power at this point so it decides to break down for him, sputtering to a stop that finally awakens his friend in the passenger seat. 

“Piece of shit” Michael curses, equal parts frustrated and fond as he smacks his hands on the steering wheel before rubbing it gently as if he would somehow hurt its feelings. 

So the pair weigh up their options, sitting on the hood in the sweltering heat, hoping the rain doesn’t start just yet, because inside the car is far too hot without the wind ripping through the windows. 

Their options are this: They can pay for a tow truck to out-bumfuck nowhere to take their car to the city, where they pay a mechanic to tell them what they already know -  _ it’s fucked- _ so they can pay for parts and pay for it to be fixed. The glaring issue here being that they really can’t afford to do any of that, with the $147.35 they have left between them. So to put it simply, they’re screwed.

After several hours of sitting in the muggy air, and more than several overdramatic statements (“We’re gonna fucking die out here dude. Fucking Mick Taylor is gonna drive up that road any minute and kill us for sport. That's based on a true story you know?") on Michael’s part, they find salvation.

Apparently this town has a handyman, who by some miracle manages to stumble across them on the old dirt road at the very edge of town as they try to figure out what to the hell they're going to do.

“Need some help boys?” he asks, killing the engine of his ute and climbing out towards them, Michael can’t help but mutter a quick ‘I told you so’ under his breath as he prepares for his life to become the third installment of Wolf Creek. 

Surprisingly it’s Calum that speaks up, sliding himself off the car to reply to the stranger with one of his trademark smiles. 

“Uh yeah. Our cars kinda crapped itself and we sorta have like, no money.” 

Despite appearing to be by rough estimate, from the paleolithic era, the man laughs, lively and full bellied at the statement, and kindly offers to help fix their car for free, well in exchange for them working at his shop for the time it takes to fix..    
  
Tries to explain, “ You see, I’m getting on in years-” 

“Well yeah” Michael replies before he can stop himself, but the man to his credit just laughs again. 

“My grandson helps me out a bit, but he’s a busy kid.” he continues, this time with a lopsided but genuine grin. “Couple of strapping young lads like yourselves, would really be of help”   
  
Michael can tell already exactly what this place is going to be like without having to really step foot in it, the kind of town where everyone always knows everything about everyone else. Full of gossips and bible thumpers and there’s probably only one supermarket and no pubs and basically no fun. It’s everything Michael Clifford hates wrapped up in a cutesy little suspiciously friendly town. 

But they’re not really in a position to say no. So Calum agrees for them before Michael has a chance to say something else stupid that gets the offer revoked. 

____________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Old Steve-o (“You really want us to call you Old Steve-o?” they’d asked incredulously to which the answer had astoundingly been a very serious yes.) had been incredibly welcoming, offering them both tea before getting to work pulling apart their old rust bucket as soon as he got it towed back to his garage, occasionally clicking his tongue at the condition she was in.

They’d been there for two days, and Calum felt like he’d been covered in grease and sweat the whole time, no matter how many showers he took. Right now, he's elbows deep in a car, black grime covering his hands and smeared across his forehead as Michael leans uselessly beside him, perfectly clean and attempting to spark a debate about superheroes. 

“All I’m saying is Aquaman really shouldn’t even be in the justice league y’know. He’s an embarrassment. What kind of superhero controls fish” he all but shouts at Calum with just how into he’s getting, despite not getting any response aside from eyerolls. 

All the yelling draws the attention of Old Steve-o, laughing somewhat fondly like always, as he approaches them, wiping his own hands off on a rag. 

“If you boys are quite done, I would like to show you something” it’s said with a healthy amount of humour but still makes Calum feel a little chastised. Digging his hands sheepishly into the pockets of his coveralls as he follows the old man over to where their car rests on jacks. 

Despite wanting to pay even the barest amount of attention to what was being taught to them, Calum’s focus keeps getting pulled away by Michael, he keeps poking Calum and whispering stupid jokes in his ear that drown out whatever is being said.

“Clear as mud?” Steve-o asks, looking between the boys who both nod, somewhat unconvincingly having not actually heard or understood a single thing he’d said. “Okay, Calum can you please hand me the torque wrench and the breaker bar” 

He smiles with pride when he doesn’t even hesitate at grabbing what he was told, apparently having  _ actually _ learnt a thing or two in the past few days. He hands off the wrench and waits, clutching the metal as he watches.

“There’s a mass tomorrow.” the old man says as he takes the other tool from Calum’s hand, using it to tighten something in the engine. It’s said with that certain finality that only comes with old age essentially adding a ‘So you’ll be going’ to the end of his sentence without having to say it, walking away before either could protest leaving them both more than a little confused.

Calum (and Michael for that matter) aren’t exactly what you’d call religious, so he hesitates at the suggestion, he can’t imagine how either of them would look sitting in a church, with tattoos and ripped jeans surrounded by proper, perfect people in their Sunday best. 

Turning to his friend with wide eyes, he silently begs him to find a way out of this, waits until the old man is well out of ear shot before verbalising it. 

“Dude. We can’t go.” he tries his best to sound just as sure as Steve-o had but fails when his voice wobbles slightly in what even he can’t discern between anger and worry. “Church isn’t exactly the kind of place for” he pauses before settling on “us” leaving the unsaid words hanging loosely in the air.

Michael just stares at him, nods once looking faux pensive, scratching his stubbled chin. “But what if we don’t go and they go all Hot Fuzz on us and like brutally murder us both in a tunnel system under the church for not following the rules?” 

Calum kind of wants to hit Michael for the almost serious way he says it, which the blonde must sense because he flinches away before he even manages to take a swing. 

“I just mean. Like, this guy is helping us out. We should at least do this right? It won’t kill us” Michael doesn’t sound any more convinced than Calum, but he does annoyingly have a point. 

So, they go to church. 

____________________________________________________________________________   
  


Luke usually helps out as a eucharistic minister on Friday services, he’s seated right up the front so he doesn’t see the newcomers until he’s holding the bowl, administering tiny wafers to the congregation lining up, in a nice neat single file between the pews, but once he spots them he can’t tear his eyes away. 

Behind the woman he’s currently ignoring, he sees the next row getting to their feet, among them the most beautiful person he swears he’s ever seen in his life looking incredibly out of place. With tattoos on his pale arms and a mess of blonde hair pushed across his face, wide eyed and confused, his lip worried between his teeth- it sparks something in Luke. 

The stranger turns to the guy beside him, another unknown and whispers something, frantically looking around for some direction before being pushed into joining the queue by more patrons in his row and disappearing from Luke’s sight. He realises a minute too late that he was staring as he fumbles the wafer into the waiting hands of the woman in front of him and smiles apologetically. 

Here’s the thing. Luke’s grown up in this town, grown up with the women who seem to know things about him before even he does. Grown up in the church where he’s told, definitively what is wrong and right, and he knows, has known since he was little what happens to boys who like boys. 

So he pushes it down, determined to ignore it like every thought he’s ever had about another man, determined to ignore this stranger until he leaves, because  _ why is he even here?  _ He plasters on a small smile, softly greeting the next person waiting for communion and forces himself not to blush when he feels his mind wandering. 

But the man it seems is impossible to ignore, when he manages to draw Luke’s attention again before he’s even made it to the front of the line. The worry on his face has only increased as he cranes his neck to try see what to do. So when he approaches Luke his hands are in the wrong position, which really means he shouldn’t be receiving communion at all, but then he looks up from the ground to meet Luke’s eyes, and the smile that crosses his face edges from sheepish to something that could be considered downright devilish in such a holy place.

While Luke’s brain is occupied making him dizzy the man whispers 

“Shit, sorry man. I don’t really know what’s happening. Why are you giving out little crackers?” 

And Luke really can’t help but cough out a small startled laugh at that, even if it wasn’t meant to be a joke and he’s fairly certain he’s blushing like an idiot so he just says “It’s okay” even though its not, and fixes the boys arms into a cross over his chest with shaking hands. “Just do this next time, so the minister knows you’re not receiving eucharist” 

The smile on the man’s face crosses back over into confused for the briefest second and it has him fighting the urge to reach over and smooth out the crease that forms between the man’s brows, fingers twitching against the bowl in his hands. 

They’re interrupted by a cough, a member of the congregation in the line behind clearing his throat impatiently, because they’re really just standing there staring at each other now.

And the guy grins, practically beams at Luke and says “Thanks” just a bit too loudly before walking off leaving him to realise that his heart is beating far too fast in his chest and he’s probably breathing a little too heavily now. 

Luckily he has some time to recoup before facing someone he knows, because the stranger's friend was right behind him, having gotten the memo his hands are crossed over his chest. He just smirks knowingly at Luke, like he can read every dirty thought that's rushing through his mind. The other boy gives Luke a small wink before skipping off after his friend, nearly barreling him over and creating a ruckus. 

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Luke’s decided that the best plan is to just avoid the strangers entirely, for his own fragile sanity. 

He has no clue who they are, or how long they plan on staying or if they’ll be at the next service on Sunday, but he’s going to give them the widest possible berth. 

Despite not wanting to, he quickly learns their names are Michael and Calum from the ladies who stand and gossip outside the church, and that they’re helping out at Mr Stevens’ garage but not much else which is the way he intends to keep it. 

But when Michael (see: the most beautiful man Luke has definitely ever seen in his life) approaches him outside after mass, the same troubling grin on his face, it really fucks his whole plan right up.

“Hey, Luke right?” he feels his stomach do flips at something as simple as hearing his own name and wishes he weren’t so pathetic. “I’m Michael. A couple of people were saying that you might be able to give my friend and I a lift back to Old Steve-o’s garage?” 

“Old Steve-o?” he echoes with a small laugh, not really getting the joke. 

The most beauti- Michael, looks at him with wide eyes. 

“People don’t actually call him Old Steve-o do they?” he sounds embarrassed and the pink blush dusting over his cheeks can attest, 

Luke shakes his head softly, like he’s trying to keep it a secret just between them, another laugh tumbling from his lips. 

“God fucking dammit” Michael mumbles before wincing “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, take the lord's name in vain or whatever” 

“It’s okay” Luke says for the second time, even though it’s really not. “Go grab your friend, I’ll give you a ride” 

____________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Michael had decided that this town actually isn’t that bad the moment the cute church boy smiled at him. He decided that he kinda likes the town when the same cute church boy- Luke as he learned his name to be- agreed to drive him and Calum back to the garage. And now, about 10 minutes into the drive, Luke gently humming along to the radio between polite conversation (Michael asking a billion questions), Michael decides that he could probably learn to love this town, if only for him. 

He’ll admit that maybe it’s a little unreasonable to make such a judgement so fast, but he doesn’t think reasonable can really matter when Luke is so perfectly, 100% his type. So he escalates it. Because how could he not? 

The very next night, he slips out of the room he and Calum are sharing and sends a text (Luke having offered the pair his number “In case you need anything at all, I’m always happy to help”). Before he could even wait for a reply he calls too, being met with a sleepy but incredibly polite sounding “Hello, Luke speaking” that gives him butterflies.

“Luke!” he basically shouts into the receiver before he can help it, steadies his volume before continuing “I’m so bored dude, please tell me there’s something to do around here. It’s uh. It’s Michael”

It doesn’t even take that much persuading (begging) for Luke to agree to show Michael around town and before long, after two other boring stops, they end up at a tiny lake hidden amongst some trees, and Luke tells him with the most genuine smile about how he and his best friend used to swim here all the time as little kids. 

Michael looks at him and tries to imagine it, but fails only able to see the other man as he is now, all long curls and perfect dimples and gloriously plush looking lips... He clears his throat, as if doing so will somehow dislodge the dirty thoughts from his mind and lights himself a cigarette to keep occupied. Taking a few deep breaths before offering it to Luke who looks at it with hesitation.

“One is not gonna kill you” he promises, bumping their shoulders together before holding the cigarette out again, wiggling his hand a little as if to entice him into it and whispering a small “Yes” in victory when he passes it over. 

Luke smiles as he takes it, taking a gentle drag, coughing a little before going back in for a second, just as he saw Michael do. He lets the smoke billow out of his open mouth slowly and while they’re nowhere close to the water's edge, Michael can’t help but feel like he’s drowning. 

In an effort to stop himself from going completely mad he does what he does best. He talks. 

“I really wouldn’t have picked you for a church boy y'know?” He immediately regrets opening his big dumb mouth when he feels Luke stiffen next to him. “I just meant, like you’re too hot to be a priest. Not that I would know, I’ve never really been to church- though i would if they all looked like you”

Luke thankfully finally cuts off his rambling. “I’m not a priest” he’s got a bit of a laugh in his voice that settles Michael even if it is just a little. “My uh. My dad’s a minister” 

Despite the laugh, when he turns to look at Michael, his blue eyes are wide and watery like he’s almost afraid of what response he’s going to get, he worries his lower lip between his teeth and christ does Michael want to kiss him, to sooth his lips against Lukes in a silent  _ everything is okay. I will make it okay _ . Instead he opts to say.

“Oh sick, so you can score us free wine and more of those tasty little crackers?” and the laugh it earns him is nothing short of magical, forces his own giggle to bubble in his throat as Luke gets lost in what really wasn’t  _ that _ funny of a joke. His hand slaps down onto Michael’s knee as he tries to calm himself and before he can think better of it, his own hand covers Luke’s.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughs and fleeting touches until the hues of the sky fades from black to purple and the sun starts to rise. 

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________

Luke is fucked. 

He drops Michael off home in the early morning light, killing the engine to let Michael know he’s not quite ready to say goodbye just yet, because being with Michael made him feel warm and safe and not  _ damned _ . Even if still deep down, he’s got a nagging voice telling him to keep his distance. 

“I had a good night” he blabs, trying to fill the silence but only really succeeding in making himself feel more awkward. A heat crawling up his neck “Thanks” 

“Nah man, thank  _ you. _ I really appreciate you showing me ‘round-” 

Somehow, it had managed to escape Luke’s focus just how pink Michaels lips were, until right now sitting in the hazy dawn light. 

He just stares, can’t help himself as he watches those perfect lips form themselves around words that are falling on deaf ears and when he sees Michael realise he’s staring he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He doesn’t expect Michael to lean across the centre console, one hand winding its way into the curls at the base of Luke’s neck. He doesn’t expect his thumb to gently stroke the skin there, and he definitely doesn’t expect Michael’s plush pink lips to find his.

The kiss is gentle but like anything Michael seems to do, it tiptoes the line between innocent and completely obscene. Tongue running along Luke’s lip pulling a broken whimper from him before he can even think to stop it. 

Luke leans forward on instinct, inviting Michael to deepen it, wants to keep the kiss going, because Michael tastes like cigarettes and redbull. Tastes like driving 60 over the speed limit towards the vast unending horizon. Michael tastes like freedom and sin itself. And it scares Luke shitless, so he doesn’t chase when Michael pulls away.

And just as quickly as the kiss started, Michael is gone, sliding out of the car and offering him one last wave as he walks away, up the gravel drive, smiling smugly to himself at the blush very clearly settling on Luke’s cheeks. 

So yeah, Luke is well and truly fucked. 

He makes it home just before his parents are set to wake up. Slipping under the covers on his bed, lips still tingling and heart still pounding to a steady rhythm of _ Michael, Michael, Michael _ . 

And he can’t help it, he’s weak, he wishes he didn’t have to try and be strong, so when he prays with his hands down his pants it's because he’s desperate and he’s sorry, forgive him, amen. 

He has his cock in a vice like grip as he tries to push away thoughts of Michael’s eyes, his hands, his mouth. How perfect his lips felt, how they  _ would _ feel somewhere else. He really only succeeds in making himself harder, so he gives in, too damn worked up not to. 

He tries an experimental stroke, and nearly bites through his own lip trying to hold back the most pathetic sound he thinks he’s ever almost heard, and when he lets his thumb swipe over the head, gathering the embarrassing amount of precum already collecting there, his eyes screw shut and he moans, loud and no, that was the most pathetic sound he’s ever heard. 

Luke lets his strokes speed up, hips canting forward to fuck into his fist. His other hand shoved between his teeth so tight he’s scared he might scar, but not able to force himself to let go. 

When he gets lost in the feeling his mind wanders to what would happen if Michael were here with him. His long, tattooed fingers working Luke over better than his own ever could. Imagines Michael looming above him, that almost feral grin splitting his lips as a stark contrast from the pretty, soft words he’d whisper in Luke’s ear, leaving him a desperate whining mess. A wet gasp escapes him at the thought and his eager hips speed up even more. 

He thinks, powerless to stop it, of Michael fucking him, hard and fast and dirty. Hand fisted in his hair as he pulls Luke back onto his cock at a brutal pace, milking every curse and whine out of Luke like a hymn. He thinks about how beautiful Michael would look spread out beneath him, slowly, eagerly taking everything Luke could give him, his grey green eyes fluttering closed, moaning Luke’s name so beautifully when he gets his release.

That tips him over the edge and he cums. Hard. Possibly harder than he has in his life, his vision blurred at the edges and his hips lifting off the bed at the force of it, knuckles crammed between his teeth to stop him from shouting. 

Forgive me father for I have sinned, he thinks during his come down. Thighs still shaking slightly against his mattress and hand and stomach sticky with release. He feels equal parts sated and dirty, throws himself down the hall and into the shower to try wash away his guilt. He fails. 

____________________________________________________________________________

The collar of Luke’s shirt is suffocating him as he sits in the front pews, hymnal like a lifeline held so tight between his fingers that the pages threaten to tear.

And he can’t stop thinking about Michael. Wants to turn around and check if he’s somehow here even though he’s fairly certain he isn’t. Because Michael is nothing shy of magnetic and if he was here Luke is sure he’d feel it. So he tries to distract himself. Focuses instead on the buzzing yellowed light bulbs and tiny fans on the walls, not doing anything at all to cool down the room. He thinks distantly, that they’re probably the same fans that were there when he was younger, their age making them noisy and rusted.

The word abomination is uttered during his father's sermon drawing him from his reverie. Luke feels his heart hammer at the centre of his chest and he worries briefly that it’s loud enough to give him away. The sermon continues but Luke doesn’t hear anything else, abomination still rattling around in his head like God himself is in Luke’s thoughts. Like all the people around him can read his mind like they know about him, about Michael.

_ For this sin and all my sins I am sorry _ . He thinks, the words flooding their way into his head but he doesn’t feel like he’s really repenting because the strongest feeling, rising to the surface above it all is that he wants to kiss Michael again. 

He wishes that sneaking around with him didn’t feel like a rush of  _ wrong _ and  _ bad _ . Wishes that it could be normal, that the way he feels about Michael could be okay. He wishes that circumstances were different and he could let himself fall in love with Michael, because he knows that it would be so easy, and he’s sure that if he lets himself it would be irreversible. 

____________________________________________________________________________

For the next few days, the only thing Michael can really think about is Luke, rendering him even more useless at work than before (he may have spent 45 minutes waxing poetic about Luke’s perfectly sculpted ass to an amused Calum because "honestly you could bounce an entire roll of coins off that thing"). Somehow after one not quite date, he’s managed to sink his fingers deep into Michael’s brain, invading almost every silent moment with dimples and golden curls.

But he doesn’t know how to proceed, because fuck he  _ likes _ Luke. Doesn’t know if he’s felt this way about anyone in a long time, or ever. But he can basically see the self-doubt dripping off him every time he looks at Michael for a beat too long. 

All he wants to do is make Luke understand that it's okay. That he doesn’t need to be wracked with guilt for liking another man, that who he is, is not a sin, and he would, if only he knew how. 

It surprises Michael, far more than it should that Luke messages him first. 3 days after the lake and completely out of the blue. 

**_Church Boy: Hi- Luke._ **

That's all the message says but it still manages to send Michael’s heart fluttering to school-girl-crush-levels which is nothing short of pathetic. He stews in his own thoughts on how he should reply, types and deletes a dozen messages before the phone vibrates in his hand again, lighting up with a phone call. 

He takes a deep breath, psyches himself up. _Be charming. But not too charming. Just play it cool._ _But not aloof._

“Hey Luke, I was just thinking about you”  _ Real casual Clifford. _

“Really?” he can hear the smile in Luke’s voice through the phone, and suddenly he can’t find it in him to be embarrassed anymore. 

“Yeah.” he admits because, it's the truth and hearing Luke sound so pleased about it made him feel warm “So um, what's up?” 

Luke takes a shaky breath over the line and lowers his voice to almost a whisper. 

“I was wondering if you, maybe wanted to hang out again. With me. Obviously.” 

Michael nods, beaming a grin before he realises Luke can’t actually see him, and is probably slowly panicking that he’s taking so long to reply. 

“Yes! yeah, yeah I’d love to.” there's a moment where Luke doesn’t respond, but Michael can hear his little breaths pick up through the phone line, like he’s building up the courage to continue.

“Cool, my best friends coming home from the city this weekend, I was thinking you and your friend- Calum might want to hang out, I think you’d get along” it's the most confident Luke’s ever sounded but it makes something dark settle in the pit of Michael’s stomach because okay yeah, maybe he thought Luke was asking him on a date, and maybe he’s a little (incredibly) disappointed. 

“Oh.” The shocked word escapes before Michael has the chance to stop it. “Uh, yeah. Yeah I’ll ask him.” 

___________________________________________________________________________

To say Michael had been a bit sad since the phone call would be an understatement. He’s nothing short of really fucking bummed, while somehow feeling like he has no right to be. He doesn’t even really know if Luke likes him, or boys at all. Maybe he was just reading far too much into a purely innocent situation. Maybe he fucked up by kissing him.

And yeah, maybe he’s been sulking for a few days and ignoring text messages or responding with one word answers. Sue him. He’s upset. 

So when Luke clearly doesn’t get his hints and turns up at the garage on Thursday, shy smile and a little wave when he catches Michael’s eye, he feels even worse. 

“Michael” Luke shouts to him as he does a little half jog over to where he’s working, nearly tripping over his giraffe legs and Michael has to inwardly chastise himself for the way his heart picks up. 

“Michael, hi” 

He acknowledges him with nothing more than a nod, trying his best to look busy, but not having any idea what to do with the open engine in front of him, so he just fiddles, probably breaking the car more than fixing it. 

“So, this weekend. I was thinking-” Luke starts, unbothered by Michael’s lack of verbal response and the same dark pit that had settled in Michael bubbles, makes him feel even worse, not even fully listening to what the other boy is saying. Hoping that just agreeing will make this interaction end faster, because he’s done this dance before. Fallen for guys that don’t want him in the same way, and it sucks, he can’t let it happen again. Not with Luke.

“Yeah. Sure.” 

But Luke keeps talking, over excited and words a mile a minute and if it were any other time Michael would probably find it endearing, can admit even now that Luke is cute in the way he’s vaguely bouncing on his toes but he’s really not in the mood. Wants to be left alone, especially by him so he snaps.

“Can you just leave me alone Luke? I’ve got work to do” He regrets it the moment it happens, meant for his words to be far more calm than they came out.

Luke looks like he’d been struck. Eyes wide and brows furrowing in a way that makes him look more like a kicked puppy than a 6 foot something man.

When he finally speaks, his voice is tiny, defeated and very confused. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

And Michael hates himself for making Luke sound like that, wants to hold him, promise that he hasn’t done anything wrong, because how could he? He’s perfect. 

Instead he settles for a poor excuse of an explanation;

“When you called” Michael starts with a sigh, realising that actually he has to face the embarrassment of the truth as to why he was acting like such a fucking child. “I thought you were asking me on a date. And when you weren’t it, kinda hurt” he hurries through it, mumbling most of the sentence, refusing to make eye contact. 

It lingers in the air between them far too long for it to be comfortable, both trying to think of what to say next. Michael opens and closes his mouth a few times like it will help him miraculously come up with something. But it doesn’t

“I was.” 

The two words are so simple, said so quietly that they give Michael whiplash. Luke  _ was _ asking him on a date? Did he change his mind? Why did he invite Calum? Why did he invite his friend? 

All these questions that are whirling around his brain come out as a not very elegant 

“Huh?”

He watches as Luke folds in on himself, trying to look tiny despite his large frame. 

“I was, trying to ask you on a date. But I got scared. I was so excited you said yes but then I realised that everyone would see us..” there's another long pause, and when his eyes find Michael’s they’re watery but it gives him the confidence to finish “and they’d  _ know _ ” 

He doesn’t need to explain further for Michael to understand, to feel his arms prickle with guilt that he didn’t think of it sooner. Because of course Luke is scared. 

“It could still be a date” he says like it's the most simple thing in the world, earning himself a smile from Luke, even if it doesn’t quite reach his worry filled eyes. “It just doesn’t have to look like one” 

____________________________________________________________________________

It’s far too hot, Calum thinks as he sits in the small cafe, cooled only by one pedestal fan that stutters every few seconds and still leaves everyone in the room a sweaty mess. It’s far too hot and he’s still not entirely sure why he has to be here. 

Michael had cornered him on Thursday, asking Calum to come with him on his date with Luke, under the pretense of just some friends hanging out. No gay stuff here, no none at all.

_ “Please do this for me, I don’t even ask that much of you” Michael begged, just short of getting on his knees and really pleading with Calum.  _

_ “Well that's not even remotely true. You ask so much of me”. Of course he was going to go, Michael was like his brother, and if he really wanted something this much Calum would never say no, he just likes to watch Michael sweat.  _

He obviously regrets it now, sitting across from his friend making heart eyes at Luke as they hold hands under the table, and trying to stop his skin from sticking to the pleather of the booth they’re squeezed into. 

He lets his eyes wander out the window , taking in the tiny main street and everything it has to offer which unsurprisingly is very little. At least until an old cherry red mustang pulls up, brakes squeaking to a stop just down the road. And the car is nice enough, if a little out of place, but the man that gets out of it is  _ really fucking hot. _ And he’s waving and smiling at everyone he walks past, stopping for chats and hugs every few feet like he’s a rockstar, and why the hell has Calum not seen him around before? 

Michael kicks his shin under the table, drawing his attention away from the greek god just outside the window. 

“Ow, what?” 

“Luke was just saying that we’re going to go to some farming festival thing when his friend gets here,” he explains, sounding far too enthusiastic for someone who just said the words ‘farming festival’ consecutively.

Calum is busy thinking of some snarky response about how utterly terrible and non-romantic that sounds for a date when someone slides smoothly into the booth beside him, derailing his train of thought.

“Sorry I’m late Hemmings, traffic out of the city was a real bitch” 

It’s the guy with the mustang, so calmly sitting there stealing Luke’s chips with a grin like it's not going to give Calum an aneurysm because he’s somehow even more attractive up close.

Everyone seems to catch up to what happened a second later, Luke jumping (awkwardly shuffling) out of the booth to embrace the newcomer with a cheerful and far too loud shout of 

“Ash!” 

He doesn’t even sit down, excitedly turning to the other two for introduction. And despite Luke being a good few inches taller, ‘Ash’ has a protective arm thrown over his shoulders. 

“Ash, this is Michael.” He takes a pause, like he’s proudly showing Michael off and maybe Calum can’t help the fond little smile that crosses his face at the way Michael beams back at Luke. “Michael, this is my best friend Ashton.” 

Ashton leans across the table to shake Michael’s hand, grinning devilishly when he says 

“Luke has told me a  _ lot _ about you Michael.” 

“This is Calum, Ash, Calum, Calum, Ash.” Luke says, valiantly attempting to stop further embarrassment for himself by diverting the topic, and sliding back into his spot next to Michael, giggling when Michael’s hand rests on his knee. 

And Ashton looks at Calum like he’s just now noticed he was there, which would maybe hurt a little if the smile he shines at him wasn’t so damn infectious. 

Conversation is stilted at first, crammed together in a booth that’s not designed to seat four grown men. But it eventually starts flowing like they’ve all known each other forever. 

They head to the farming festival in Luke’s ute, Luke and Michael riding up front, hands joined over the centre console and Calum has to admit it is pretty adorable. Not sure the last time he saw Michael like this.

The couple up front means he’s in the back seat with Ashton, who he learns went to school with Luke, but was a few years older, learns that he moved to the city 2 years ago but tries to drive back at least twice a month to help family. And, perhaps most importantly he learns that he has eyes the colour of springtime and the most beautiful laugh. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Ashton spends the whole drive to the showgrounds, deep in conversation with Calum, answering any question he has;  _ How do you know Luke? What kind of music do you like? Do you think dinosaurs had a better understanding of the fundamentals of communism than we do? _ And okay, that last one threw him a little but what does it matter, Calum is cute. 

And he knows that he should probably be catching up with Luke, they haven’t seen each other in nearly a month and certainly have a lot to talk about, but when he leans forward to at least try talk to his friend he catches out the corner of his eye, Calum light up at the showground rides appearing in the distance and every coherent thought beside that is lost. 

He slides across the back seat to sit a little closer, 

“I wasn’t expecting like.. a carnival” Calum admits, tearing his gaze away from the window to look Ashton in the eye.

“What were you expecting?” he asks, even though he can already guess, a farming festival doesn’t sound all too interesting. 

Calum looks pensive for a moment,

“Tractors and shit I guess” 

By hour 3 of running around the festival, eating good food and following an excited Calum between rides, Ashton will be the first to admit he’s smitten. How could he not be? And yeah maybe now he’s standing there just checking Calum out, taking stock of the tattoos that line his arms and the parts of his chest that Ashton can see. 

“Caluuuuuum” Michael whines drawing everyone's attention, the sun is setting, blanketing everything in golden hues. “Can you take a photo for us?” 

As cute as the moment would be, Luke is clutching onto Michael’s hand so tightly Ashton can see the strain in both their arms. He’s nervous. The smile he puts on when told to pose is so obviously fake that Ashton is about to speak up before Michael pulls Luke aside, whispers something that has him giggling and beaming, relaxing into Michael’s touch.. 

Calum manages to take the perfect photo, the sun behind them shining in their eyes and illuminating the way they’re gazing at each other, and it’s a work of art, seeing them both look so happy deserves to be framed and hung in a gallery for thousands to see.

The moment ends abruptly when Calum takes off, passing Michael’s phone off to Ashton without a word and disappearing into the crowd. 

When they find him, he’s on his knees, cooing excitedly to a very large, very fluffy dog who seems just as taken with Calum as he does with it, tail wagging and excited barks and it jumps around and licks over Calum’s hands and face. And it might well be one of the cutest things Ashton has ever seen in his life. 

Michael and Luke follow him a second later and stand beside him, laughing as Calum dramatically falls into the dirt for the dog to lick him some more and Ashton forces his eyes to drift from Calum to watch over his best friend, hand tucked tightly in Michael’s, so wide eyes and happy in this moment that it gives him chills, but at his core Ashton is scared for Luke. He knows that he’s not like him. Never has been. Ashton is open with himself, refuses to hide who he is and doesn’t give damn what others think.

Luke isn’t. 

And Ashton has been hearing about Michael from one person or another before he even left the city, the boy that drifted into town like a stiff summer breeze. The one that knows more swears than the bible has verses and uses them so liberally. With baggy shirts and ripped jeans and tattoos on his fingers and pierced ears. The boy that everyone knows is queer. The boy that Luke has been seen with nearly every day. The boy that Luke is so clearly head over heels for. 

So he got back to town worried and over protective. Already biased against the man but it's apparently impossible to not like Michael, Ashton really tried falling into his place as protective older brother, wanted to give the whole “If you hurt him-” speech. But he must admit, the kid is  _ good _ for Luke. 

Long after the sun has finally dipped below the horizon and they all walk slowly back to Luke’s truck trying to prolong the day that they all know has come to an end, Ashton dramatically flings his arm around Michael’s shoulder, says far too loudly with a sibling level intent to embarass;

“Well Lukey I can see why you like him so much. He’s definitely got the Ashton Irwin seal of approval” 

Two things happen, Luke stops walking, mortified, looking like he wants to melt directly into the muddy grass. And Michael laughs, bright and bubbling. 

“Thanks man. Do I get like a certificate or something?” he jokes between giggles, 

___________________________________________________________________________

Luke has been jittery the whole drive home, fingers flexing against the leather of the steering wheel repeatedly in an effort to stop his hands from sweating so much. 

They pull up on the main street to let Ashton grab his car, and ever the gentleman he offers. 

“Do you want me to give them a ride home? Your place is in the other direction” 

And maybe he could be a little calmer and a tad nicer in the way he barks ‘No’ at Ashton. But he wants to be alone with Michael. “It’s fine. I can do it. You’ve driven enough today” 

It’s a poor excuse but thankfully Ashton lets it slide, offering a quick goodbye with promises to hang out again soon.

When they pull up at the old house, Calum rushes his farewell, climbing out of the car glued to his phone, no doubt already texting Ashton and Michael is about to follow before Luke reaches out, grabbing at his wrist. 

At first the words don’t come, too nervous or too transfixed by the way Michael is looking at him he can’t tell but eventually he manages to blurt it out. 

“Come to the lake with me?”

Michael nods, settling back into his seat and smiling fondly at Luke as he struggles to get the car moving. And they’re both a little tired and Luke’s a little nervous so he’s grateful when Michael turns on the radio, gently singing along to whatever plays. 

When Luke finally stops the car he’s even more anxious than before, Michael staring at him expectantly and he doesn’t know how to phrase what he wants. Doesn’t really know how to ask for it so instead he leans in, grabs Michael by the front of the shirt and kisses him.

Its messy, teeth clattering together and Michael makes a little ‘hmph’ sound in surprise but then he melts into it 

And kissing Michael is like breathing smoke, burns in the best way, Luke settles his hands on Michael’s cheeks like if he stops touching him for even a second he’ll disappear. 

He lets Michael take control, lets Michael press him back into his seat and climb across the console so they’re pressed together. 

And Luke has kissed boys before, at school and sleep away camps. Even kissed Ashton one night when he let his feelings bubble to the surface, has felt the guilt and heartache that comes with it every time. But none of it ever felt like this.

Never felt this good. 

So he’s scared. His heart is hammering triple time and his hands are starting to shake again. 

And maybe Michael has to tell him 3 separate times to “Stop shaking.” Tries to calm him down, whispering in between kisses “It’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes.” Luke says before he thinks through the question, immediately rushes back with “No. I don’t know. Just. Please.” he can feel the tears well in his eyes because he knows that this is a sin. Knows what he’s feeling right now is wrong. But he needs it so he reaches back out of Michael and whispers against his lips 

“Please just, please touch me”

___________________________________________________________________________

It is very steadily approaching two months since their piece of shit car broke down, As it turns out a ‘93 Holden Commodore was a lot harder to get parts for than anyone had first suspected and with the car still out of commision, Calum and Michael were still stuck in the small town. 

Michael likes to think he must have grown a lot as a person, two months in one place usually being more than enough for him to feel overwhelmed and suffocated. He has to attribute at least part of it to Luke. 

Luke who is currently laying next to him in the bed of his ute pointing out star formations like he knows what he’s talking about (he doesn’t), and to his credit Michael is throwing in the occasional “oooh” or “really?” in encouragement, appreciating the way Luke keeps pulling him tighter to his chest in response. 

“And that one” Luke leans over to point his finger at what looks to Michael like empty sky “Is Cassiopeia. I think” It's not. Even Michael knows that you can’t see that constellation in Australia but Luke looks so proud of himself, turning over to look at Michael with a smile brighter than all the stars combined.

He can’t stop himself from leaning up on his elbows and pressing a kiss to Luke’s smiling lips, kisses him slow and deep, lets up a little when he feels Luke hesitate before diving in and Michael prays, despite himself, before feeling sick to his stomach, that one day he can kiss Luke and he won’t feel guilty. 

___________________________________________________________________________

The realisation that Michael was completely in love with Luke should have been a more spectacular affair in his opinion, it’s what he deserves. A big exciting firework filled moment, birds singing and writing in the clouds. Because he’s  _ in love _ . But since his life was not some rom-com it doesn’t feel like that. It hits him slowly, about 3 months in. Seeping into his thoughts and settling like a layer of sunlight over every interaction they have. Filling every part of him with warmth each time he catches Luke’s eyes. 

And it terrifies him. 

So while he’s sat in the cooling grass with Calum on what surely has to be the hottest night of the year, a few too many beers deep, the fear rises to the surface. Claws at his throat, bile covered and thick and suddenly too much for him to handle on his own.

“I think I actually fucking love Luke.” Michael lets slip into the once comfortable silence that stretches between them. And it feels like a weight has been pulled off his chest, saying it out loud. Admitting it to himself as much as to someone else. 

“Yeah. I know” is the response he gets. Calum has always been the calm to his chaos, since they were kids working perfectly together but right now, Michael thinks he’s being just a little too fucking calm. 

“How did this happen?” so he’s yelling now. Standing up to pace around, arms flailing because if Calum is going to be so blase about what is one of the biggest revelations of Michael’s life. He's going to let himself get fired up. “Like, how the fuck did this happen?” 

Calum just shrugs at him, tipping his beer back to his lips before responding. 

“You fall in love fast and hard.” he goes to take another sip before he decides he’s not done with his reasoning. “And at the worst possible time. It's kind of your brand.” 

Despite the amusment in his voice Calum at least has the decency to look apologetic, because fuck Michael hadn’t even thought about the god awful timing of it all, but leave it to him to fall in love with someone who not only can’t love him back, but if by some miracle he could, they already have an expiry date. 

It suddenly occurs to Michael, hits him like a punch in the gut that no matter how much he loves Luke. There will come a time, sooner than he would like where Luke will forget about him. When memories of the lake and sneaking around in Luke’s ute will fade. Where Luke will think of him for a final time. 

“If it makes you feel any better…” The hesitance in Calum’s voice draws him back from getting too lost in his own head. “I’m in a very similar boat with Ashton”

Hearing Calum say it adds selfish to the overwhelming list of things that Michael is already feeling right now. He takes a long drink of his beer, swallowing around the guilt forming in his chest. 

“Shit.” he wishes he could be a bit more eloquent but the liquor and the stress has his mind starting to fizz a little. 

“Yup” Calum says with a sigh, settling back onto his elbows in the grass and cracking open what's probably his third beer too many because neither of them have ever had great coping mechanisms, which is why they’re here in the first place. But they can’t outrun this one in a shitty commodore that's older than they are.

“I’m sorry Cal.” Michael whispers, for what he’s not sure, but he knows that he really is. 

It cuts, deep in Michaels chest that he’s been so absent, he hates that he was far too caught up in Luke to even think about how Calum must feel, because he’s seen the two together. Has watched the way Calum looks at Ashton like he single handedly hung the moon and all the stars. With pure wonder, and excitement and  _ love. _

So he falls onto the grass again, laying beside his best friend reaching out to grab his hand like when they were little and hoping that the gesture alone is enough to tell Calum all the unsaid words between them.

___________________________________________________________________________

  
  
  


It's a little after 3 am on a Tuesday night and they’re in the back room of the church. Which is to put it lightly, a really fucking bad idea. But what drives Michael absolutely wild with excitement is that it wasn’t his really fucking bad idea. It was Luke’s

He had a key, taking the breaking part out of breaking and entering and making it slightly less illegal, but when they walked through the heavy wooden doors, Michael stared down the rows of pews and it felt an awful lot like he was staring down the barrel of a gun, so they quickly rushed into the sacristy (Luke told him the word) under the pretense that its lack of windows would stop them getting caught. But really it was because the altar filled them both with a deep unease that needed to be escaped **.**

“I’m so proud of you for thinking of this babe” he wraps his arms around Luke’s waist, pressing a chaste kiss to his neck. “And all on your own too. I’ve taught you so well” 

Luke laughs, the kind that has him tilting his head back and makes Michael’s heart do childish little flips. 

“Of course you’d be proud of single handedly corrupting someone” 

“Please Church Boy. I had to use both hands.” he punctuates his statement by grabbing at the taller boy's ass, squeezing firmly before letting go. Admiring the blush that creeps over his face. 

He can’t help but let his mind linger a beat too long on the implication. That he is corrupting Luke. Knows that this is Luke’s life and he’s just blown into town and is  _ changing _ everything. Throwing his whole world into disarray with the contrast between his nights and days. It settles like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach.

And Luke stares at him with a confused look, tilting his head to the side in a silent question and Michael answers just as silently, shaking his head gently with a small smile, attempting to reassure  _ everything's fine. _

The blank, elevator music stare doesn’t leave Lukes face and Michael leans in with a laugh, slotting their lips together, sighing when he feels the other man melt fully against him. He wishes despite himself that it could all be as wonderfully easy as kissing Luke in the dark. 

It gets hot fast, the electric drag of Luke’s stubble on his and Michael can’t help but wonder if kissing Luke will ever not feel this amazing. They’ve been fooling around for a few weeks now and much to his joy Luke has been getting far more bold in asking for what he wants so when the curly haired boy pulls away and drops to the floor in front of him, knees cracking against the hardwood, he can’t help the whine that slips out. 

Fuck does Luke look beautiful, staring up at Michael through his lashes. He manages to snake his fingers into Lukes hair somewhere between one mumbled swear and the next. His fingers get caught on a knot and tug slightly, and the sound that Luke makes has Michael going from zero to half hard pathetically quickly. Makes note to file that away for later when he has more than two brain cells to rub together and can focus on anything other than Luke’s mouth being inches from his dick.

“Can I?” Luke asks, fingers stopping at the button on Michael’s jeans, he responds with a frantic nod, hips jerking a little without his permission. He hisses in a breath when his pants are tugged down and the cool night air touches his skin. 

He hears Luke take a short shaky breath, hands still not touching him properly so he says

“I take it this is your first-”

“Do not” he cuts Michael off, clearly desperate  _ not _ to have this conversation about his lack of blow job experience, not right now. Michael just breathes out a laugh and a half apology, soothes his hand over Luke’s cheek in encouragement.

When Luke’s perfect lips make their first press to Michael’s cock he knows that this is going to be over embarrassingly fast. He swallows Michael down perfectly and eagerly in one quick motion that looks so easy, his tip pressing against the back of his throat.

If he could think, he’d probably be self conscious of the way his knees buckle and the barely audible helpless noise that gets torn from him but the constant wet heat of Luke’s mouth has his mind pretty clear.

“This okay?” Luke asks, pulling off Michael with worried eyes, his hand replacing his mouth and making long slow strokes up his shaft. 

“Fuck. You’re perfect” Michael assures, strokes his thumb shakily over Luke’s bottom lip, already starting to swell. “Doing so good” His praise continues as Luke sinks down again, sucking a little harder this time.

Michael has never been a religious man, but fuck is he sure there must be a god when Luke Hemmings looks up at him, eyes shining and lips wrapped around his cock.

Then he moans. Luke fucking moans around him, eyes falling closed and the heel of his hand giving some pressure to his own dick through his jeans. Michael has to stop himself from coming right then and there at the sight because fuck Luke  _ likes _ this.

He picks up his speed, moaning more and more as he rocks his own hips, punching aborted little half breaths out of Michael every few seconds before it's too much. 

“Fuck Lukey, you’re-  _ fuck-  _ I’m gonna cum. Fuck you’re gonna make me cum” Michael manages to grind out through clenched teeth, tightening his grip on the golden curls, trying to yank Luke away, but he presses himself down further, grabbing at the backs of Michaels thighs to stop him from moving. 

He spills down Luke’s throat with a long, drawn out groan. Body going slack almost instantly, like all his muscles had been pulled too tight and finally snapped. Luke helps tuck him back into his jeans and stands up, a bit of cum still on his lip that he licks off as Michael watches and he decides instantly that he doesn’t care if he’s corrupting Luke, if it looks and feels this fucking great. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Michael asks, trying to sound as sexy as possible but it's hard when he can barely catch his breath. He’s met with a sheepish look.

“I kind of already-” 

Michael feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his jeans, trying pitifully to get hard again when he understands what Luke means, eyes zoning directly in on the wet patch on the front of Luke’s jeans. 

He pulls Luke in for a heated kiss, speaks his praise against his lips “God you’re so fucking hot” 

___________________________________________________________________________

  
  
  


They leave the church wrapped in each other, high off the night they’ve had and feeling invincible. Luke wonders absently if his touch sets Michael on fire, the way that Michael’s smile and laugh and eyes do to his thoughts. 

The sun is on the verge of rising, dusting a pink glow over the small town and it feels almost surreal to Luke, the steady warmth of Michael's arm around his waist the only thing really grounding him in reality as they walk back to his truck.

"I don't know about you Lukey, but I could really go for some bacon right now" Michael says as he slides into the passenger seat, drumming his hands on the dash like he's got too much residual energy and this is the only way to get it out. 

And Luke really isn't hungry, has felt butterflies in his stomach for hours that haven't settled but he gets now, that he's always going to be a sucker for Michael, will do anything he asks and then some.

"Diner then?" 

Their breakfast stretches into lunch and by early afternoon (and Michael's third milkshake) they're still sitting across from each other at the diner, caught in their own little world. Michael telling a story that has them both giggling, hands joined over the table

"..and so Calum and I, absolutely covered in cream are in the back of the police car right?"

  
  


"Luke?" The voice rattles him to his core, and he tears himself away from Michael as quickly as possible. "Luke Hemmings" 

"Mrs Andrews!" His fake smile pulls at his cheeks almost painfully as he stands to greet the woman, trying desperately to distract her. "How are you? How are the kids?" 

"Luke, what are you doing?" And there it is, accusation and disappointment echoing through her tone that has him feeling like he might just vomit. 

Except what comes out is more word vomit than anything, layering on excuse after excuse finishing it with:

"This is just a joke" pointing towards Michael. 

And as soon as the words rush out he wants to take them back, stop anyone from hearing. Wishes that he had it in him to tell the truth, but while lying is a sin, the truth is so much worse.

It's nothing shy of a miracle that the old woman believes him, leaving them with a slightly skeptical stare but no further comment. And Luke settles back into his seat with a shaky sigh of relief. 

The moment he thinks everything might be okay Michael stands up and leaves, without a word but a tenseness lingers in the air as Luke rushes to follow him. 

"Fuck you, Luke" he spits when the taller boy catches up. "A fucking joke? What kind of horseshit is that?" 

"I didn't mean it like that" and he knows it's a poor defense but he can't find it in him to explain. "We should have been more careful" 

And Luke can't help but think that everything would be so much easier if Michael had never walked into the church. And for a brief moment finds himself wishing that he never did before the sick feeling returns tenfold.

He can feel himself pushing Michael away, like somehow giving up the man he loves will be the lesser of two evils. And it's not what he wants. Couldn’t want anything more than for Michael to hold him right now and tell him everything is okay. But it  _ isn’t _ . 

“Fuck Luke, why are you such a coward?” he hears the hurt in Michael’s voice as he yells it but it doesn’t lessen the impact. Feels it like a slap to the face and it forces the tears he’d been holding to fall. “I don’t appreciate being used for your little self experiment okay?”

He lets out a half choked off sob, resigning himself to the fact that his worst fears were true, that everything was bound to go wrong eventually. He hopes that Michael will be brave enough to fight for them when Luke can't bring himself to because he's so scared. 

"You're not even going to say anything?!" 

Luke wants to say he's sorry, that he'd do anything to make this right. Wants to tell Michael that he loves him and it terrifies him. But Michael doesn't leave enough pause for Luke to force the words out. Instead shaking his head and walking away, spitting a goodbye that sounded far too final. 

___________________________________________________________________________

That night Michael tears himself apart with practiced efficiency. Choking down whatever alcohol he can find and being simultaneously grateful and pissed off that no one else is home to watch him collapse in on himself.

He feels bitter, deep down into his soul, letting his hands clench into fists over and over like it will make anything better, even when he knows it won’t. 

By 11pm he’s moved on to a stale, cheap tequila that burns his lips and throat on every swig and tastes like someone found guilt and loneliness and bottled them, shoved it into his fist like - here asshole, this is what you deserve because you fucked everything up.

Which he did. He knows it. 

He wishes he could take it back, hates that he yelled, that he let Luke pull away, hates that he didn’t fight for them. But mostly he hated the way that Luke had looked at him, terrified but utterly defeated, eyes cried red raw. Helpfully the image of it flashes in Michael’s mind every time he closes his eyes, just to make sure he feels sufficiently shitty.

“I’m fine” he says aloud to the dark and empty room, more trying to convince himself than anything, but he still chases the lie down with another swig of the booze, cringing at the taste because fuck, he doesn’t even like tequila. But that seems a fitting punishment.

There’s a phantom buzz of his phone in his pocket, and he scrambles to get it as if somehow it’ll be Luke because honestly Luke is braver than him, brave enough to fix this. He has to be. 

It lights up with no notification. Just his background ceaselessly mocking him, the picture from the festival, he and Luke bathed in a golden glow and looking fifty times happier than he could even imagine being right now. 

He feels a sob dare to tear itself from his throat so he does what feels right. What he always does at a time like this. He runs. 

Somehow he’d stumbled on drunken feet half way through the town and found himself at the steps of the church. Because of course. The simple brick building is like a beacon of unease that radiates through the whole town and draws everyone in, in fear of god's wrath. 

He wishes he were anywhere but here but his legs are jelly from running for so long so he relents, lets himself be drawn in, falling to the steps, limbs and heart heavy. 

Michael’s toeing the line, already starting to feel more hungover than drunk and he wishes he had more alcohol if just to stop the pulsing ache in his head. Except he doesn’t really. No, he wishes he had Luke. 

His brain must be playing tricks on him, everything too fuzzy to really be making sense because he swears he sees Luke’s ute. 

He takes out his phone, dialing Luke's contact before he can let himself regret it and listing to it ring a few times.

"Michael?" Luke sounds so excited and uncertain when he answers the phone that it makes Michael realise he had nothing to say. So the silence lingers across the line. "Michael please" 

"You at the church?" He puts his face in his hand at his own lack of eloquence. Waiting for the stuttered confirmation before continuing. "I'm outside" 

And he hears Luke's footsteps before he sees him, watches him run toward him spouting apologies that Michael can't make heads or tails of. 

"I'm really sorry Luke" he says over the babbling, cutting him off.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for-" and Michael cuts him off again. 

"No. I'm sorry."

Luke nods like he accepts it this time, like he understands what Michael means and he settles a little. 

"Michael I have to say something" and this time Michael stays silent, knows when not to interrupt. "I am so scared, have been my whole life, of how I feel and what I am. And, and when I met you, it made me forget all that stuff, even for a little while and I think i'm less scared when I'm with you because I love you, and-" 

And he immediately abandons his plan not to interrupt because the can't stop himself from saying

"I love  _ you _ Luke." Desperate to get it out. 

Luke grabs for him, pulling him into his broad chest and sighing. 

"I really  _ fucking _ love you Michael" and the swear sounds wrong from Luke's lips but it feels so perfect as the lean into each other

Foreheads pressed together just breathing the same air, both halfway between crying and laughing because how could they be so fucking stupid. And when they kiss it feels like salt water filling Michael’s lungs. Drowning in his feelings for Luke. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Luke's parents had gone out of town leaving him alone in their big house that already felt empty, even with them there. But his parents being gone meant Michael could be there. Which is what Luke wanted more than anything, especially after their fight.

Its almost surreal seeing Michael swan around in a place so achingly familiar to Luke, and seeing him laying shirtless in Luke's bed is something of a fantasy come to life. 

Michael's hands are so gentle on Luke's shoulders as they kiss, careful and reassuring, and Luke let's himself relax into the mattress a little, to enjoy the slide of their bodies pressed together before the constant rush of anxiety floods his mind again.

Michael clutches at Luke’s shaking hands, presses gentle kisses to his fingertips. 

“If god hasn’t struck us down yet, I don’t think he’s going to” he lets himself laugh through it but the implication is sincere, like he wants more than anything to share some of his calm with Luke. “But if you don’t want to do this-” 

“I want this' Luke cuts him off, bringing their joined hands to his lips instead. “I want you” he promises. 

They both smile into the kiss, making it a little messy as Michael settles up on his knees. 

"We'll go slow, okay?"

Apparently slow is  _ really _ fucking slow. Slow is Luke writhing desperately, naked and sweaty beneath Michael (who is equally naked and more beautiful than Luke can really comprehend right now)

Slow is Michael leaving barely there kisses on his thighs and stroking his cock until Luke can hardly say anything but "Michael" and "Please"

Slow is Michael waiting until Luke is so, so close to the edge, desperate and needy until he does something new. 

Luke feels so exposed when Michael slots a pillow beneath his hips, settling on his stomach between his thighs. 

"Open your legs a little more for me sweetheart, perfect. Fuck you're beautiful Luke, what did I do to deserve you?" Michael muses, pressing more kisses to the pale, sensitive skin on his inner thighs. 

He can't help the giggle that comes out at the praise and the tickling feeling, quickly turning into a whine as Michael runs a lubed finger around his hole. 

"You good?" 

Luke nods quickly, surprised by just how sensitive this part of him is, but when Michael works a finger in, pressing past the knuckle the sensation is weird but not painful, but Luke isn't really sure how he's meant to find pleasure in this. 

"Use your words, Baby " Michael insists, "You alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good" he assures, stroking his hand down Michael's arm.

"Good" it's said with a grin that sends shivers up Luke's spine, and then he crooks his finger, searching.

And after a moment, yeah Luke gets why people like this, gasping and arching into Michael's touch. 

"Oh God. Fuck Michael, please" 

"Feel good? You're doing so well for me Baby, can you take another? Get you ready for me, so gorgeous, can't wait to fuck you." 

Luke cries out a yes, and he's sure he could get off to Michael's words alone, feels filthy but wonders how this could ever be considered a sin with Michael's voice in his ear and his lips on his neck.

Michael works him up slowly, pressing Luke's needy hips to the bed as he adds a second finger, then a third. Let's them circle that spot inside him that has Luke crying out loudly. 

And he's suddenly hyper aware of how heavily he's panting, and how every word that escapes him is a whine.

When Michael removes his fingers Luke makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat, too desperate to be teased but before he can voice his frustration Michael is covering him with his body and rutting against Luke's hip, like he can't control himself. 

"We can stop if you want. We don't have to do this if you're not ready" it's so reassuring and genuine but Luke can barely catch his breath to respond so he pulls Michael down, sliding their lips together and pouring every ounce of love he feels for Michael into the action. 

"I'm ready, please Michael" he swears as they pull apart, spreading his legs further in invitation as Michael settles between them. 

When Michael pushes in it's not like his fingers, the stretch should be uncomfortable at the very least but it just leaves Luke panting, twisting his hips to try take him in faster. 

Luke moans gospel into the air when Michael bottoms out, fingers in a bruising grip on his thigh and forehead resting on Luke's chest as they both get used to the sensation. 

He's needy and impatient and so worked up that he can't think of anything aside from chasing his release so Luke rocks his hips back against Michael biting off a yell at how good it feels.

Michael's grip tightens in his thigh in a warning

"Fuck baby, if you keep doing that this'll be over very fast" 

Luke reluctantly still his hips, listening to Michael, no matter how good it may have felt to take Michael in like that, trusts Michael to take care of him.

He starts to build to a steady pace, angling his hips until his cock hits Luke's prostate on every thrust and reduces Luke to a whining mess, biting his knuckles in a futile attempt to muffle his moans as Michael fucks him hard and fast. 

"Michael" is all he can manage to say when he's close, reaching out and Michael let's Luke drag him into a frantic kiss, his fingers threading into Michael's hair and leaving it messy and wild. 

"It's okay baby, I've got you" Michael groans against Luke's throat, hand between them wrapping around Luke's dripping cock. "Come for me pretty boy." 

Luke comes with a long whine, leaving a mess on his stomach and Michael's hand, still shaking from it as Michael thrusts once, twice more and stills his moan chorusing Luke's. 

"Fuuck" he says on a shaky breath, slowly pulling out of Luke, and dusting kisses over his face. "You're amazing"

"That was-" Luke tries to expand on his thought but words escape him so he settles for "fuck" making them both chuckle.

"Thank you" Luke says quietly once they've cleaned up, laying naked together in his bed. 

Michael doesn't reply, other than a kiss to Luke's cheek. And Luke feels  _ I'm happy it was you  _ linger on the tip of his tongue but he can't bring himself to say it so he kisses Michael properly instead.

  
  


Michael pulls him closer, whispering soft praises against his lips and Luke realises that if holiness was something tangible it would be this. Laying spent with the love of his life. They fall asleep lips on each other's, somewhere between one breath and the next. 

  
____________________________________________________________________________

Michael wakes up close to noon to 2 texts from Calum, the usual charm that he's come to expect seeping into the words

**C-Dizzle: Get ur pale ass 2 the lake we're having a picnic.**

**C- Dizzle: Bring ur giant.**

His chuckle wakes Luke, pouting and curls in a messy Halo as he properly wakes up. 

"Mornin'" Michael chirps snuggling back against Luke, sighing at the way he welcomes his touch. Losing all intention of getting up and meeting their friends.

But then Luke's phone starts buzzing before he can even speak, an old picture of Ashton dressed like a cow filling the screen and Luke is nice enough to answer it.

So they make it to the lake 45 minutes and a corner shop trip later tossing a sad bag of chips amongst the spread of food the others (Ashton, with little to no help from Calum) have laid out. 

Calum and Ashton can be heard before they're seen, laughter and splashes come from the water where they're half play-fighting, half making out. Michael wolf whistles at them to get their attention. Ducking behind Luke as a human shield when Calum rushes toward them intent of wetting Michael. 

The food is slowly picked at over time, leaving them spread out in the grass chatting as the sun starts to set. 

Luke is hunched over, very intently playing some game or another on the PSP that Michael produced from his backpack. 

"I love this game" he says to no one in particular after about an hour of silence, not even glancing up from the screen.

"I'll leave it to you in my will" Michael promises with a laugh.

"I don't believe you'd ever part with that thing" Calum's probably right about that, "Not even in death"

"I wouldn't, but no one can prove that I'm not going to live forever so..." Michael jokes, idly tearing up blades of grass and sprinkling them onto a blissfully unaware Luke's knee. 

Ashton hums in response. 

"It's weird to think. But one day there'd be no one who remembers kissing you. Or watching the stars with you, holding your hand. Or waking up beside you" 

He clearly doesn't mean for it to upset anyone, it's just a morbid sentiment rattling around in his brain that he wants to voice. 

But it stops them all for a moment, even drawing Luke from his game, A silence falling over everything, save the music of the console as they all think about what was said. 

Michael thankfully knows how to bring the mood back around and says a bit dramatically

"Way to be a fucking bummer dude" 

Calums phone rings in the midst of their laughter and he rushes off to take it.

"I'm sorry" Ashton says, laugh evident in his voice to show he's not offended. "I'll dial is back" 

"Yeah, your bummer levels at like a 7, maybe try not to stray above a 2 at least not with Captain Sensitive over here" Michael juts his thumb at Luke, laughing with Ashton as the man in question pouts. 

When the laughter and teasing settles down Calum is standing over them, some kind of news waiting to be said;

"Uh. That was Old Steve-o" Ashton giggles slightly at the name, not having heard it before but he lets Calum continue "The car is fixed, I uh, I guess we're leaving tomorrow" 

____________________________________________________________________________

Calum and Michael leave tomorrow. No one has said much since the news, they’re still at the lake, the moon lighting up the night and reflecting back at them from the inky black water and despite there still being four people, this time it's far too quiet as they pass around a fifth. There’s thunder rolling in the distance signalling the coming end of summer, inevitable and so close you could feel it in the air.

Michael leaves tomorrow and no matter how many times Luke says he’s okay, he’s not. Isn’t sure he’ll ever be okay. He wants to embrace this, the last hours that they’ll have together, make it fun and light. Something that Michael will never forget, because he doesn’t want to be forgotten. Ashton's words ringing around in his head and making him feel sick. But they’d never really talked about what comes next, so he’s scared into silence, hand clutching Michael’s like if he doesn’t let go, he can’t leave. He’d let Michael drag him through hell if it meant he could stay by his side. 

A few feet away Calum and Ashton move to lay in the grass whispering to each other not loud enough for Luke to hear but he can see the love in their eyes. Watches fondly the tender way his oldest friend presses a kiss to the others head, somehow smiling in what is one of the saddest moments of Luke’s life.

He finds himself praying, praying that the two boys decide to stay, immediately feeling like he’s blasphemed. Instead he prays that he wasn't so weak. That he could ask Michael to stay, to beg, to demand it but he can’t. His eyes well with tears that he has to fight to keep from falling because he feels far more at home in Michael’s arms than he has in twenty three years in his hometown but he’s too much of a coward to say it out loud. 

He thinks he might have the nerve to speak, the silence lingering between them making the air tense in a way that he couldn’t handle. But Michael beats him to it. 

“Come with us” he looks twice as surprised as Luke that it was said, much less by him. “Yeah, yeah. Come with us.” 

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________

The next morning is bittersweet. Luke had rushed home and filled a bag, told his family he was going on a road trip. Told anyone who would listen really, bouncing with excitement to start a new adventure. 

He hadn’t thought in his excitement about saying goodbye to Ashton. The only constant in his life that he never felt suffocated by. The only person who knew exactly who he was and accepted him for years. 

He's said goodbye to him before, years ago when the older told him he was moving to the city for uni. And if he's honest Luke cried, whined like a baby because  _ how could Ash abandon him like that?  _ He thinks he understands now.

So he just watches, hands shaking as his best friend says a long, teary goodbye to Calum, the pair swaying in their hug for the past few minutes.

Calum had begged him to come too, Luke also more than in favour of the idea but Ashton has too much he'd be giving up, unlike the rest of them and while it hurts more than any of them would like to admit, it makes sense. 

"Please don't forget me" he hears Calum plead and it makes Luke's heart sink the way Ashton pulls him to his chest, dotting a dozen kisses to the youngers hair and swearing that he never could, even if he tried. 

When they finally pull away from each other, Luke steps up, letting himself be pulled down into a hug, ignoring the ache in his back from stooping in favour of squeezing Ash as tightly as he can manage and refusing to let himself cry this time. 

"You'll just have to drive through Sydney soon okay?" Ashton half jokes when he pulls back looking at all of them in turn. "Come visit little old me" 

"Of course we will" Calum says diving back in for another hug, nestling himself under Ashton's arm for as long as he can. 

It's close to midday by the time they actually get in the car, understanding that the longer they draw this out the more it'll ache, but if they linger, still sitting in park as Ashton leans in the open window for another half hour so be it. 

  
  


"You better take good care of my boys Michael Clifford. Or I'll take back that certification" Ashton says finally, tapping the roof of the car as he leans away, and it makes all of them laugh, filling the small car with more joy than hurt for even the briefest of moments. 

"Sir, yes sir" there's a small salute that goes with it before he starts the engine and as the car rumbles to life Luke's anxieties seem to ebb away being replaced by excitement. 

And Michael and Calum's car is full of crumpled receipts and empty cans of red bull and more cassette tapes than Luke has ever seen, and when Ashton and his small town turn to just a speck in the distance Michael turns up the radio, blasting the music as loud as they can bare, grabs for Luke's hand across the gear stick and sings along, smile brighter than the sun in the sky and Luke finds himself smiling too. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it because I had a lot of fun writing it. 
> 
> Not to be too lame but dedicated to Ryan, Noa, Maia and Vicky who were all immensely supportive of this trainwreck while I was writing. I hope it's as good as you said it would be. Xx


End file.
